The injured elf has come to and seems a little embarrassed of having lost his battle so badly, and he protests being so unceremoniously carried. "Put me down at once! I can walk myself, the wounds are not that grave." That may be, though he still looks very pale and pained.
Eglantine leads the small party out of the fighting grounds and back to the bustling town. They walk past the hoard of traders at their market stands and the occasional street magician and artist. More than once someone tries to stop them and offer something for them to buy (usually useless trinkets). After wading through the crowded streets, they finally start to feel the calming presence of Illyries temple, and the number of people around them drops rapidly and the sounds muffle. They take a narrow street that should lead them to the wider road passing by the temple and almost right to its front doors, when...
Spoiler: OOCListen checks please.
The cleric sighs. "I'm afraid I do. And I am from Springhaven too, though I suppose it would be too much to ask for you to know of Winterhill. It's a village to the south, we have shrine there to The Lady of Peace. It has been there for ages, but might not for much longer, if the Marquis gets his way. He would drive us out from our sacred land! And soon, so I must see the High Cleric without delay!"
"If this sort of agitation", Brother Gregor puts in, still not lifting his gaze, "is common over there, then badly have you forgotten Illyrie's scriptures."